


No Longer Hesitate

by Maidenjedi



Category: West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-16
Updated: 2012-04-16
Packaged: 2017-11-03 18:23:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/384454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maidenjedi/pseuds/Maidenjedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josh and Donna, during 'The Cold'</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Longer Hesitate

She thought it was the heat of the moment.

She had no idea it was the breaking point.

Not until later, when C.J. had that look on her face.

Finally.

-

He had his arms around Annabeth and his heart was leaping, and it was probably wasn't because he had kissed Donna and Donna had kissed him back.

No way.

Vinick had a cold and they were having a good day, a fantastic day.

It was hard not to think of these things in political terms. Your opponent has a cold in October, just before the election. Your opponent has a cold, and he was the one pushing for nuclear energy that had ended in a sweaty, national panic.

His popularity was dropping, and your guy was gaining on him. Had gained on him.

Was tied with him.

Hard not to feel a bit of jubilation.

Hard not to celebrate with hugging.

And kissing.

-

She liked keys.

Actual jagged, metal keys. Those little plastic cards were not romantic in the least.

So pushing an actual key in his direction, an action rife with cheesy symbolism  
that she did, in fact, mean literally, was romantic.

Meant to be, anyway.

She was trying not to blush. To be a grown-up about it.

Come to my room, Josh. Follow me.

Kiss me again.

She watched him not do battle for the key. Watched him just sort of sit there.

Staring back at her. His expression hard to read, even for Donna, who knew his  
every glare and tender apologetic gaze.

If you think that I don't miss you every day....

Don't miss me anymore. You don't have to.

Follow me, Josh.

He stayed planted in his chair, and Donna went upstairs.

-

Years ago, in the beginning, he had almost kissed her.

The night of the Illinois primary.

"We need some Doobie Brothers!"

And Donna was trying to get his attention and when he finally came down to  
earth, looked in her face, he almost leaned in.

Then he was on a plane and his dad was dead, and he'd forgotten Donna's  
existence for awhile.

Theirs had been no easy course.

He always wanted to kiss her. At first it was exciting. Then it was routine. He was shot. Donna was there every day, and nothing. Then he was with Amy. And Donna was hurt, a hospital bed in Germany. All the times in between. The times that were every day, the frantic pace of White House life swirling between  
them.

He almost kissed her so many times and then she was gone. Out of his life.

Working on someone else's campaign.

Then suddenly there with him every day again.

No wonder he'd kissed her. All that drama, all that confusion. It was enough  
to break any strong-willed man.

He'd seen the key on the table and he was frozen, a sixteen-year-old kid presented with a bra strap and knowing absolutely nothing about how to unhook it.

How's that for unromantic, gomer-like thinking?

-

She really had not thought this through.

She'd let C.J.'s encouragement get to her.

The Josh thing is finally happening.

No, the Josh thing is non-existant.

It was bound to happen sometime.

Donna sat on the edge of the bed and didn't do anything that might be considered  
comforting herself. No drinks, no drawing a bubble bath, no hugging her pillow.

It was bound to happen sometime.

-

Bram was still talking and Josh had longed since stopped pretending to listen.

Bram got the picture, or decided to call it a night, or something.

Either way, Josh was by himself in the lobby.

No use moving, he didn't want to go upstairs to his room and he sure as hell  
couldn't find Donna.

Why not?

The internal, eternal argument.

Go to her room. No. Kiss her. No.

Make love to her.

Absolutely not.

Why not?

She's your assistant and....

Josh ran his hand through his hair. It stood on end. He smoothed it down.

She is not your assistant.

But....

The argument was pointless now. Part of him felt gleeful, giddy.

Part of him was rooted in this chair.

She'll slam the door.

Or she won't open it.

She needs space.

We both do.

He was in the elevator by this point.

-

Knocking.

What campaign disaster awaited them now?

Donna thought it automatically but she knew it was Josh. She probably knew  
the moment his feet had hit the floor. They were like that. Instinctual, drawn to one another.

She let him sweat a little. He knocked again, whispered her name.

"I need to talk to you."

She went to the door and pressed her ear to it.

-

Josh jumped. She was at the door, he'd heard her footsteps.

"Let me in?"

Soft, trying not to scare her.

Scared shitless himself.

"Not yet." She was quiet, too, a little breathless.

"Okay." He leaned his head against the door. "I should have come up here sooner."

"Josh, you didn't have to come up here now to tell me that."

"Yes, I did. I wasn't....I didn't hesitate, not once I figured it out."

She opened the door and he stumbled a little, had to catch himself on the door  
frame, like he was drunk, such a delicate system.

"You didn't hesitate."

He nodded.

"In all the time we knew each other, this...thing...wasn't about hesitation?"

He looked at the floor. Her feet still clad in shoes, her ankles round and perfect and since when did he think about things like ankles?

"Hesitation. Fear. Practicality."

"Those are all the same things."

He kissed her, and she pulled him inside.

-

Years of practicality proven impractical. Implausible.

How, exactly, had this taken so long?

She kissed him like she had always done it, as if she'd never kissed anyone else.

It wasn't perfect. Their lips didn't meet exactly, and she giggled when he tried to tongue-wrestle with her. Still trying to prove you're stronger than me?

He looked at her, puzzled by her laughter, and she kissed him harder.

His hands were on her neck, her face.

Her hands met his. She couldn't touch him, not yet, not while he was distracting her with kissing.

It happened like this: on the bed, her under him, his pants around his ankles, her shoes falling off during the best part and dropping like anvils on the floor, startling him and getting her to laugh again.

He thrust into her, hard, right then while she wasn't paying attention, cutting off her giggles by making her gasp his name.

Like a prayer, or an admonishment. She didn't usually come so quickly, and she was surprised.

He was always taking her by surprise.

When he said her name, it was a caress, an apology, a plea. I love you, I'm sorry I waited, please don't leave me.

And he came and it was messy, he collapsed on her and her hands came up to his hair and got tangled there.

-

She was flushed the next day, and the day after that he was a good kisser in secret corners.

No one was fooled.

Least of all Congressman Santos and his wife, who had stumbled upon them while looking for their own secret corner.

Helen and Donna looked at each other knowingly and smiled.

It takes patience when your man is a politician.

They weigh every move, they calculate every strike so that they never miss.

You are their pinnacle and they know they might fall, so they wait and when they finally try, you have to give them a little extra push.

A key, sliding across a table.

Helen had waited for him in his bed. She wasn't a mistress of subtlety.

The women knew.

The men just blushed and stammered and the day was a little less comfortable for them.

Donna liked it on Josh. He wasn't off his game, but he would stop and he would smile. He would hug people in celebration.

He would kiss her. Later. When they were alone.

Nothing had really changed.

He just stopped hestitating.


End file.
